English Roulette
by LoyaulteMeLie
Summary: Boredom is setting in on board Enterprise. Some ways of relieving it are riskier than others.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Star Trek (plus all its intellectual property) is owned by Paramount. No infringement intended.**

**Beta'd by ArtisticMom2, to whom all due thanks!**

* * *

"Gosh, this sure is a quiet part of the galaxy," sighed Anna. "Even the boss's getting bored of the engines just doing cruising speed day after day. I guess poor Travis must be nearly in a coma."

"He's a Boomer. I guess he's used to it. Cargo ships must go for months without seeing anyone else." Hoshi picked listlessly at her chicken teriyaki, and cast a rueful glance around the Mess. "But I think the captain will go nuts if we don't meet someone soon. Even a Klingon ship to pick a fight with." She pictured the captain in his daily routine lately: walking on to the bridge, sitting in his chair, glaring at the deserted viewscreen, getting up and going into his ready room. Doubtless he had endless paperwork to do, but that wasn't what he'd come out for. Desk work day in, day out was not Jonathan Archer's idea of exploration.

Even she herself was getting kind of bored. There was always work to do on updating the linguistics database, but a girl needed a change now and then. It was getting to the point where she'd started a game of pulling silly faces in the direction of the dark head bent over the tactical console at the station opposite her. Pity knew what he'd do if ever he looked up and caught her at it, but that was all part of the fun.

Wondering.

"I'd imagine Lieutenant Reed prefers it quiet," said Liz, laughing. "If a Klingon ship's the alternative, anyway."

Liz must have read her mind. Hoshi pinkened ever so slightly.

So what _would _he do?

A fairly universal gesture brought the other two heads in close on either side, to pick up a confidential whisper. She related her current version of Russian Roulette. English Roulette, so to speak.

A chorus of stifled giggles enlivened the Mess briefly. Though they had to be careful not to glance across at the man in question, who was sitting alone a few tables away, his head bent as always over a padd. He was facing in their direction; he would undoubtedly hear the giggles, but although he was unlikely to respond to them, others might see and make the connection.

"He'll catch you sooner or later." Anna shook her head. "That man is cute."

"I'm starting to get the feeling that Hoshi here sure thinks he is." Liz twinkled.

"I didn't mean cute _that_ way."

"_She_ does."

"Will you quit talking about me as if I'm not here?" Hoshi elbowed both of them. "It's just a bit of fun."

"Uh-huh. I can think of things I'd rather do for a bit of fun. Like putting my hand in a mincer, or having a tonsillectomy without an anaesthetic." Trip's faithful henchwoman shook her head.

"But what do you think he'd _do?_" insisted Hoshi.

"If pulling faces at a senior officer isn't a court-martial offense already, he's the man to turn it into one." Liz wrinkled her nose. "He has no sense of humor."

"Oh, I don't know. I saw him smile once. Sort of. At something the boss said. And it was quite nice, actually." Anna looked thoughtful.

"Jeez, isn't Trip the miracle worker."

"Now, he _is_ cute. And what an ass." They all giggled again. There couldn't be many female members of the ship's crew who hadn't admired the perfect proportions of the chief engineer's backside.

"So what sort of faces do you pull?" asked Liz, when they'd paid sufficient tribute to Trip's anatomy.

"Oh, anything. It depends on how bored I am. Sometimes I just stick my tongue out. Other times I go for something a bit more risky. Like this." She demonstrated one of her more adventurous gargoyle impersonations.

She would later claim that it was purely habit that had caused her to stare straight at Lieutenant Reed when she did it.

It was just unfortunate that he chose exactly that moment to look up.

* * *

**All reviews and comments received with gratitude!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Star Trek (plus all its intellectual property) is owned by Paramount. No infringement intended.**

**Beta'd by ArtisticMom2, to whom all due thanks!**

* * *

Right. Run that simulation again. Now that I've changed the parameters _there_, I should get...

Perfect. So much for 'it won't make a blind bit of difference,' Commandah Tuckah. Which of us is the armoury officer around here?

0.000002% is a _lot _of difference.

You'd make enough of a fuss if your bloody engines were 0.000002% out.

Now, where was I?

Oh, yes. The Mess Hall at lunchtime.

Ensign Sato.

Very pretty woman, Ms. Hoshi Sato. I know people don't think I notice these things, but that's something that's a bit hard to miss. Especially when her station's almost directly opposite mine on the bridge.

God damn it, I _am_ human. Even if I am English.

I don't know what made me look up at that particular moment. I just get this sense, sometimes, that I'm the object of somebody's attention. It's saved my life once or twice – usually anybody whose attention is fixed on me that hard is aiming something unpleasant in my direction.

Sure enough, so was Ensign Sato. But what the hell she was doing it for to start with is a mystery I'm still trying to fathom out.

Good job I'm pretty good at keeping a straight face, though I have to admit that even I struggled. She blushed like a sunset.

A very pretty sunset it was too. Perfectly framed by the horrified faces on either side of her.

Give her her due, she was going to apologise, but I couldn't have held on much longer. I pretended that I had something urgent to do in the armoury at that moment. I didn't even laugh till I was in the turbo-lift, though i had to hurry a bit to get there in time.

I suspect from the colour of what I can see of her neck from here that she's still a bit pink. (And yes, it is a remarkably attractive neck. That's another thing I've noticed. It leads with just the right amount of curve into... well, somewhere there are other things with just the right amount of curve. Memo to self: stop thinking about curves, or you won't stand up without causing a riot on the bridge.) She's paying far too much attention to those updates; she hasn't looked up once in the last hour.

And I _have_ been watching. Unobtrusively. Just in case I've caught on to something here.

Ensign Sato, you are a marked woman.

_You have been warned_.

**The End.**

* * *

**All reviews and comments received with gratitude!**


End file.
